Trust
by thelonelypawn
Summary: Elizabeth is blinded in an attempt to capture a blacklister. Rendered in such a vulnerable state, she will have to fully rely on Red. Set after Anslo Garrick.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So yeah. Hi everybody! I'm new to the site, and this is my first fanfic. For like anything. I'm kind of nervous, I've always read fan-fiction but never posted any myself. I've watched this show from the very beginning, and like the rest of you, I'm quite a fan ^-^ I suppose my main worry is whether or not I was able to capture the character's personalities, but its kinda hard to tell with just one chapter . Just know that I tried my best. I apologize for this chapter being so short. But there's more to come, trust me.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Blacklist . The only thing I own is my imagination, and Emile.

* * *

The names on the blacklist were slowly beginning to dwindle, and as they did, Elizabeth noticed Red accompanied her and Ressler more often. Occasionally, Dembe wasn't too far behind, either. The criminals were becoming harder and harder to catch - more dangerous, and equally as clever. And even though Red had disappeared for a while after the Anslo fiasco, and rarely came into the Post Office when he returned, Assistant Director Cooper had given the man consent to go with Agent Elizabeth Keen wherever she dared venture to search for suspected blacklisters. Red was an important asset, so his input and assistance where applicable was greatly appreciated.

The man they were pursuing today was a fellow by the name of Emile Pescarti - a master arsonist who happened to have an extensive knowledge of bombs and how to make them (often selling his expertise to the highest bidder). To make things even more interesting, Emile was formerly a skilled magician. He left a calling card at crime scenes - an Ace of Hearts playing card. The newspapers called him "The Wizard". Intel had traced a phone call back to Baltimore a day before, in an abandoned parking garage - the hunt was on.

After a monotonous car ride (between an amiable silence, Red's random observations, and much small talk), the three were now focused on the task at hand. Dembe, who had followed them at length in another car, drove past and parked in a different location. Ressler cut the vehicle off and extricated himself from the confines of metal, leather, and machinery. Elizabeth and Red followed suit.

"Alright, Pescarti's phone call was traced to this location," Donald said. "We're here to look around, see if we can find anything related to the case. It's highly unlikely Pescarti will be here, but if you do see him, be cautious in apprehending him." This he said as he glanced at Elizabeth.

"Don't worry, Donald," Red chortled. "I'm sure Lizzy and I are capable of handling ourselves." A gentle quip. _She is stronger than you think, Agent Ressler._

Donald nodded, and with a final glance at the two, he departed to scour the perimeter. Red turned to Elizabeth.

"Let's start on the first floor, shall we?"

"Sounds like a plan."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **When I logged in this morning and saw this story had a couple of reviews, I was pleasantly surprised. I hadn't been expecting anything on my first day, quite the opposite, in fact. To a writer testing the waters of her abilities, it both pleases and encourages me, so thank you for the kind reviews thus far, I appreciate it. I'm glad you all find it interesting, so I will try to keep it so. The hardest part about writing fanfiction is trying to come up with something that hasn't already been done. The idea for this was born after I contemplated the dynamics of Red and Elizabeth's relationship for literally an hour, and have been watching dvr'd episodes for inspiration. For curious minds, I'm not trying to set this up as a RedxLizzy thing (though I am cautiously shipping them, it's a guilty pleasure of mine). I'd prefer to keep the dynamics between them as presented in the show, but we'll see as the story moves along. Now on to Chapter 2~!

* * *

Walking into the ground floor of the parking garage was like walking into a cave - a dimly lit cave. The afternoon sun had no reign here, save for a few dusty shafts of light. There were no cars, trucks, or vans. The walls and concrete columns were decorated with graffiti, and trash, cigarette butts, and empty bottles of beer littered the floor. The light fixtures had long since fizzled out and stopped working. It was a kingdom of desolation and ghostly afterimages - dark and dank.

"Nice place," Elizabeth commented dryly as she glanced around.

"It's actually perfect for Emile," Red replied. "It's abandoned, remote, and not a whole lot of people come here. I imagine this is where he makes his bombs. Probably a few floors up."

Elizabeth bit her lip, thinking on it. "You're probably right. I'm going to look around down here for a few more minutes before heading up."

Red watched her for a moment before addressing her again, "Lizzy. I'm going to go check something out. It's better if we split up - we'll cover more ground."

"Alright. If you happen to see Ressler, ask him if he's found anything and radio me your location." Elizabeth was about to walk past him when he grabbed her by the arm. She spun around, her expression quizzical, her eyes questioning, to which he fixed her with his usual intense gaze, very direct, all-seeing and all-knowing.

"Be careful," Red murmured. As soon as the words left his mouth, he released her and retreated from view into the clandestine shadows of the old building. Becoming one with the darkness was one of his best talents. That and disappearing. Elizabeth should have been worried, but she really wasn't. _Raymond is a grown man. He can definitely take care of himself. And he specifically requested to come with us, so there isn't any need to worry about him disappearing, like after..Anslo Garrick.._

A shudder. Elizabeth pushed the unpleasant memories to the farthest corner of her mind. In truth, she had worried because she thought of him every day while he was "missing", wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay. Elizabeth hated to think of what could have happened to Red after she lost the ambulance. She had seen the warehouse, the chains, the chair, the dead body of Garrick. _What had he suffered for my sake?_ He hadn't been lying at all when he told her he'd do whatever he had to to keep her alive, even if that meant sacrificing his own well-being.

This, and the fact that he was generally right about his hunches, led Elizabeth to believe the truth of his convictions, except where Tom was concerned. That was another matter entirely, although at this point even she herself felt the constant presence of an ever-growing doubt. All the same, Red's warning made Elizabeth rethink the current situation. If he was suspicious, then she would be extra cautious. Satisfied with her sweep of the first floor, Elizabeth made her way towards the flight of stairs and began her ascent to the second floor.

* * *

Five floors up, Emile paced back and forth in front of a long work table, materials for a new bomb spread out across its surface. A couple of minutes before, he had stopped to take a break in its construction, and walked over to the far edge for a breath of fresh air. Looking down, Emile watched as a car pulled up on the other side of the street, and three people stepped out. Two men and a woman. He had been curious until all three crossed the street and headed toward the parking garage, and experienced a flutter of panic. _Who were they? Just regular people? _No, he thought he had seen something that looked like a holster for a gun on the blonde man. _Local law enforcement? No, they'd be in uniform. Detectives? The FBI? _

Well whoever they were, they were a threat to his operation and freedom. He needed to finish this bomb today, and heaven help him if he were caught. Emile's calloused fingers twitched nervously, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. He rushed to the table and hastily began packing the materials into a large bag. When he finished, he swept a hand through his dark hair, trying to think of what he should do. _If it were only one person, I could have easily dispatched him or her. But three dead bodies found here would be very suspicious, and I'd have to relocate._ Escape, then, was the preferable method. _And if I happen to run into one of those three, I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve._ Tricks up his sleeve. Emile grinned. They didn't call him the Wizard for nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **The previous two chapters were merely precursors - an uphill slope of the rollercoaster that is Chapter Three. Please strap yourselves in tightly, it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Please keep in mind that everything is happening at the same time.

* * *

Donald walked with a controlled and steady gait. He had been around nearly the entire building, looking for anything suspicious. _And possible escape routes if necessary._ His face exhibited a pensive expression - he was deep in thought. _Pescarti wouldn't carry out his operations during the day, that would be too cocky. So why do I feel so uneasy?_ Donald wasn't worried about his abilities; he had been hindered for a while because of his leg, but it had healed nicely and now left him with a little limp in his step.

_His leg._ Though he hated the idea of being indebted to the man, Red had saved his life. Saved and then threatened to end it. How unpredictable. It served to remind him that Red was a criminal. _But not just a criminal, a person, and not just a person, either, but a man. _A man bent over him in an unbreachable box, hands red with blood as he tended his leg. _Have you ever been on a ship, Donald?_

His pace must have quickened, because he soon found himself at the front of the parking garage, with nothing unusual to report. He was about radio Agent Keen when movement in his peripheral vision made him sharply glance upward. Above his head, the fifth story. There was nothing now, but Donald could have sworn he'd seen something. Then the sinking feeling in his gut.

_Shit! Pescarti is here and he has seen us!_

Donald ran, grabbing for his walkie talkie. "Agent Keen? Agent Keen!" he hissed. A moment of static, then a fuzzy voice in his ear.

_Agent Ressler?_

_ He's here. _

_ Did you see him?_

_ Fifth floor._

_ I'm on it. _

Another crackle of static and then silence.

* * *

Red was an observant man with an appreciation for the finer details, the small, little things people tended not to notice. So that's what he had decided to investigate. Before he was an expert on bombs and arson, Emile had been a magician for many years. He had been the master of illusions, and rarely did they tell their secrets.

Therefore, it was necessary to search for any booby traps or secret getaways. Red was at the far end of the fourth floor - he hadn't taken the stairs, he'd simply walked up the car ramps. He didn't see any hidden getaways, but he had discovered booby traps. An alarming number of trip wires, but for what? Those had been the most difficult to find - the wires were thin, but strong and durable. Red had followed their lengths and that had only led him to the concrete pillars holding up the fifth floor. On each pillar, he'd noticed, the wires slipped into the concrete through a tiny hole, which meant Emile had spent a long time dislodging chunks out of the pillars to hide something within and had it sealed up. Red closed his eyes to think.

_Emile is obsessed with fire - he's a pyromaniac. Whatever is hidden in the concrete must be something combustile. Something combustible. _Oh God. If an object with considerable speed and force were to trip the wires..._so what were the wires attached to? _Grenades? There was no other explanation. The grenades were literally ticking time bombs. Then the realization hit. _He intends to destroy the building and everyone in it if he cannot escape. Lizzy._

The wires, though not invisible, were still hard to see unless you were looking for them. Elizabeth wouldn't know to look. If she were to run through here..Red's breathing hitched. _Warn Lizzy..I have to warn Elizabeth._ Then he noticed the silhouette of a person moving on the stairs. Coming down, not up. _Emile._ Red was now faced with a choice: let the blacklister escape, or get to Lizzy before she reached the third floor. The third floor had been rigged, too. He made the executive decision, Emile forgotten, and ran.

* * *

Emile was here. A moment before, Ressler had contacted her and relayed that information, having spotting him on the fifth floor from the ground. Elizabeth could have sworn the man had the visual accuracy of a bird of prey. The time for investigations was over. She could feel herself shift into a different mode, the huntress awakened in a pulse of adrenaline that lended her a burst of unnatural speed, which carried her feet effortlessly over the floor and flew up the stairs, gun drawn and held at the ready.

She couldn't help the yelp of surprise as she collided with someone as she reached the third floor, and they fell together in a heap of tangled arms and legs. Something dropped, it sounded heavy. Elizabeth's gun was knocked clean from her hand. She glanced up and stared into the face of the Wizard. On the very second of recognization, she reached for her gun, but he was faster. He raised a closed fist, and Elizabeth, too disoriented for her senses to catch up and compensate for the swift onslaught, failed to duck a second sooner and was caught with a hard blow to her left eye as she turned her head.

Emile made to step over her collapsed form, but Elizabeth grabbed him by the ankle with both hands and used her strength to drag him onto the floor with her, so she could grapple with him and hopefully knock him out long enough for Agent Ressler and Red to arrive. That was the challenge in itself - Emile was taller, and stronger. He hadn't drawn a weapon but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. They exchanged punches and scracthes; he had pulled her hair and she'd bit his arm. Somehow they had ended up standing, moving. Emile was pushing her away from the stairs.

Then his hands moving. Fingers furiously rubbing together._ What the hell is he doing?_ Emile shoved Elizabeth away from him, and she stumbled backwards a bit. When she flew back at him, his hand was on fire. _His hand was on fire? How the hell..oh fuck.._

Before she could stop him, Emile had reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small glass vial, opened it, downed the contents. Elizabeth was too close, she was far to close. He raised his palm with the fire seemingly conjured out of nowhere, and expelled the contents of his mouth, setting the liquid ablaze as it neared and passed his hand. Elizabeth saw the bright flash rise to greet her, burning her skin, scorching her eyes. She screamed as she tumbled backwards, falling hard, holding her hands to her face, her eyes, Emile's voice drifting to her ears.

"I cannot be captured!" he crowed. "I will not be captured!" A sudden burst to her far right. Something, or a few somethings, had caught fire. Hungry flames rising. Then Emile's retreating foot steps fading into the sounds of the crackling heat.

* * *

**A/N: **There are ways to make fire without using fire. For example, there are chemicals you can put on your fingers, and rubbing them together (like snapping your fingers) creates a reaction and makes a loud bang and a flash of fire. That's what Emile's done, and he had to be fast because the liquid he drank was naphtha lighter fluid.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I hope you all can forgive me for wounding Elizabeth so grievously. It was unpleasant to write, but it was necessary for the story. As for our antagonist, he'll get his comeuppance. He ought to watch out..because hell hath no fury than a pissed off criminal mastermind.

* * *

Elizabeth gasped at the intensity of the flames. The heat was searing and offensive. The world was a blur through half closed eyes, and the smoke stung, so she closed them. She had been lucky to have seen anything at all. The very second before the fire had hit her face, Elizabeth had blinked as she tried to duck away. That little second saved her sight, though she wagered she would have burn marks and swollen eyes for a while, making it difficult to actually _see._ Her left eye still had a pulse where Emile had struck, and her body was battered and sore.

The smoke made it difficult to breathe. Each inhalation brought it rushing into her lungs, and she would cough violently and wheeze. Elizabeth sat on the floor; no use standing. She felt the concrete beneath her fingertips and sighed. _Did Emile really escape, or had Ressler managed to catch him? Was Ressler even okay? Where is Red? No...Do not dilude yourself with thoughts of a miraculous rescue. The Stewmaker had been close enough, but these things don't happen every time. The flames are too high by now. I will die here on the lip of hell. However..if there is a chance that someone is close by, I can't say that I didn't at least try to save myself first before giving up. And I dare not try to move._

She raised her head, unable to see, but listening, listening. _Perhaps he's already looking for me?_ Elizabeth opened her mouth.

"Red? Ressler?" she questioned the sizzling air. _No, louder. The flames are roaring._

"Red! Agent Ressler!" She is straining now, her throat hurts and it burns - she sounds rough, like sandpaper. _More desperate. Scream. Scream no matter how much it might hurt you._

"RAYMOND! Ray-" It is too much. The smoke coming in through her nostrils, her mouth. It hurts too much to breathe, and now speaking, too, is out of the question. Agent Keen wants to cry. Dive right into hysteria. But she was not trained that way. She is stronger than this. She simply hangs her head in silent acceptance, utterly defeated. For a moment, Elizabeth thinks about Tom, their broken marriage, a future of happiness in the form of child she will never have. _Is this really what my life has amounted to? I have no family to grieve for me when I am gone. I will become another statistic, another file._

Suddenly, a sound above the fire. Foot steps? Elizabeth raised her head again, attentive, hopeful. Foot steps, for sure. Heavy and hasty - someone is running. _Running to her._ She waves her arms, attempting to be seen. _Could it possibly be? Is it him, my savior, my protector, my confidante, my comforter, my..friend?_

A touch - a hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth tilts her head in the direction of the sound of his breathing.

"Red?" she asked in a strangled whisper, fighting the urge to descend into another spasm of coughing.

He, and of course it is him, answered, "Yes." His voice was unreadable, but she thought she detected.._anguish?_ Red bent over and gathered her into his strong, capable arms, and she clung tightly to him, one arm draped around his shoulder and the other hand gripping his chest, creasing the fabric of his jacket and the shirt beneath it. She let her face fall into the hollow of his throat, breathing in. He smelled like ash and sweat with a dash of expensive cologne..

* * *

Red's initial feelings had died down the moment Elizabeth was in his arms. He had seen what had happened, seen Emile breathe fire and _hurt_ Lizzy, heard her scream. The fury he'd felt boiling in his veins was unlike anything he'd experienced before he'd met the young FBI agent. And then Emile had set fire to his bag, which was full of flammable material. Before he ran off, the Wizard had glanced up and met Red's eyes, and it was to him that he had shouted across the room. _I cannot be captured! I will not be captured! The hell you wouldn't. _Oh no. If Elizabeth's safety weren't more important, or the situation as dire, he would have run the man down and killed him, for he felt a murderous rage.

But he was grateful she hadn't tripped any of the wires. She had been very close to one of them. _Literally an inch from death. _Red shuddered. He had no idea where Donald was, but he sincerely hoped he'd run into Emile. Donald wasn't shy about using his gun. The thought gave him pleasure and calmed him down. _Now I think it's time to get us the hell out of here._ The shock of seeing her injuries up close made the necessity all the more urgent, and he hurried down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him, mindful to be careful with Liz's added weight.

Outside, the fresh air seemed to revive her, if only a little. She stirred in his arms, and her breathing was ragged as she greedily drew in the clean air. Red moved his thumb in calming circles on the hand supporting Lizzy's back. _Slow down, Lizzy. Take slow, steady breaths. In. Out. In. Out. _He didn't have to walk too far, as Dembe had pulled up alongside the sidewalk. Red opened the door to the backseat, and carefully placed her inside, then got in beside her. He glanced at the rearview mirror to see Dembe staring back at him.

"Drive," he said.

"Where to, Raymond?"

"The nearest hotel."

Dembe's expression changed by a fraction.

_ Not the nearest hospital?_

_ No. _

_ Very well. _

Red was competent enough to know what he was doing. He'd done a decent job on Donald's leg, hadn't he?

* * *

Emile was not as lucky. He had reached the ground floor when he spotted the third person, the blonde man from before, when he had seen them coming from the fifth floor.

"Freeze!" Donald shouted, his gun drawn, aiming.

_Oh fuck._

Donald didn't wait for Emile to comply. He was still running anyway. Two shots caught the blacklister in the chest and shoulder, and he fell to the floor with a pained and angry oath. Donald was quick, and soon had the Wizard in handcuffs. _No more tricks, you son of a bitch. _He was about to radio Elizabeth again when he caught a whiff of smoke.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the lack of an update the other day. Life is kind of complicated right now and my heart feels heavy. I took a personal day to just calm down and relax but now I'm back. Writing is everything to me so I'm glad to return to it. I've read through your reviews so I know there are questions a few of you have about the story. I believe MisterBlueButterfly asked a pretty good question - _Why is Red taking Lizzy to a hotel instead of a hospital?_ Well, the whole point of the story was to have Red nurse Lizzy back to 100% (or close enough to it) himself. He has his reasons for doing so, but I won't say what they are, that would spoil the story. I'm also fascinated by Red's medical expertise / knowledge, and writing this gives me a chance to kind of explore that. So please don't fret, Elizabeth couldn't be in more capable hands. I hope this chapter clears anything else up. Also, if anyone sees any mistakes (spelling, grammar, etc.) feel free to point it out at your leisure and I'll gladly fix it. I don't use a beta.

* * *

As they pulled away from the sidewalk, Red was able to turn his attention fully on Elizabeth. She wasn't unconscious yet, but was close to it. Her breathing was labored and wheezing, and had a persistent cough. Red reached over and unbuttoned the first three buttons of her blouse so her breathing was unrestricted. He opened the window a bit to allow air to flow in. It seemed to help a little, but this was all he could do for the time being. Then he remembered Agent Ressler. _I suppose a little phone call should help. I hope Lizzy doesn't mind if I borrow her phone for a moment._ Red slipped the cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Donald's number.

One ring. Two rings. Three -

Donald's voice flooded his ear, irate and concerned. _Agent Keen, where are you?_

"Relax, Agent Ressler. Agent Keen is with me." He glanced down at his companion, her breathing steadied for the moment.

_Red? Where are you two? I have Pescarti, and there's smoke-_

_ There was an altercation, Donald. Emile breathed fire in her face and she's been seriously injured. Don't venture past the second floor, there's a fire on the third. Also trip wires. _

Red told him what the trip wires were for. He also explained, in great detail, where they were placed.

_I suggest you call the fire department if you haven't already, and the police department. They should assist you, respectedly, with both the building and the blacklister. If you have to return to D.C., then go ahead without us._

_ Assistant Director Cooper-_

_ Will be seeing us when Agent Keen is fit to travel._

_ Which hospital can we find you at?_

_ Goodbye, Donald._

Red terminated the call, and placed the cell phone back where he'd found it. He had the full confidence that the Wizard would soon be behind bars, and that the old parking garage would remain intact.

* * *

Half an hour later found Red and Elizabeth in a suite in a hotel downtown. He had paid well to make sure none of the staff noticed the injured woman he was carrying around. Privacy was a luxury he could indeed afford. When he had arrived at the suite, Dembe had opened the door for them and stood silent in the kitchenette while Red placed Elizabeth on the sofa, using a pillow from the bedroom to cushion her head. By this time, she was semi-conscious, but not in shock. He elevated her feet on the armrest, anyway. Red removed her shoes, placing them on the floor by the sofa, and also took her phone. _She will try to call Harold or Tom. There cannot be any distractions. I will have to convince her to concentrate on getting better first._

He turned to Dembe after he'd made sure Elizabeth was comfortable.

"She needs a bronchodilator. Anti-inflammatory drugs for her throat. Also green tea bags, cucumbers, a jar of honey, and aloe vera juice."

Dembe nodded, and wasted no time in leaving. He was used to Red's unusual requests. Some were even more unusual than this. When he was gone, and Red was assured they were completely alone, he resumed in his care for Elizabeth. At first he thought she was unconscious, but she was actually asleep. He checked her breathing again. Steady now, but still ragged. Her throat was inflamed from the smoke inhalation. Red frowned as he sighed.

He walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains to allow the fading sunshine in. It was very late in the afternoon now. Clouds were collecting over the skyline, and the fiery hues of sunset danced in the reflections of glass windows and bounced off the tops of nearby buildings. The city was starting to come alive as traffic emerged from the woodwork. People coming and going, leaving their point b's to return to their point a's. Perhaps it was still warm enough outside? The idea of turning the fans on didn't appeal to him, so he opened the window. A pleasant breeze drifted in. _Now, just one more thing.._

Red wandered into the bathroom and procured a wash rag. He turned the sink on and drenched it in cold water, then rang out the excess droplets and brought it with him into the main room where Elizabeth still slept. He folded the cool wash rag sideways and placed it on her face, over her swollen eyes. Her eyelids were slightly burned, and he hadn't been able to discern the condition of her retinas. _Just give it time, time._

The only thing he could do now was sit in a chair opposite the sofa where Lizzy lay, and wait for Dembe to return.

* * *

It was a little bit after 6:00 pm when Elizabeth finally stirred. She felt something on her face. _Fuzzy..some kind of fabric. Cool. Soothing. _She yawned, and realized she was stretched out on two large cushions. _A couch or sofa maybe. Wait, where am I? My shoes are missing too. What happened?_ She remembered she had been trying to catch Emile, and that it gone less than well. A complete disaster. She also recalled fire, lots of fire everywhere, and the faintest impression of being carried by Red..but that was pretty much it.

Elizabeth tried to sit up, and the wash rag fell into her lap. She grasped it in her hand, but did not put it back over her eyes. They still hurt, but not as much as before.

Red glanced up as Elizabeth sat up. "Lizzy."

She froze at hearing her name. Red was close in proximity to her. Elizabeth tried to open her eyes, but all she could do was squint before it started to hurt, and even through squinting, the images were blurry. _Not worth the effort._ She closed her eyes again. "Red? Red what happened? Where are we? Where is Ressler? What about Emile-"

Red chuckled. "You're very talkative upon waking, Lizzy. I know you must be confused, and you definitely have a lot of questions. If you allow me to answer them one at a time, would that put your mind at rest?"

A nod. "Yes," she replied, and waited for him to speak.

Red cleared his throat. "You were injured in the altercation with Emile. I saw what happened and acted as I saw fit by removing you from the danger. Don't worry, Agent Ressler was able to catch our slippery friend, and the building will not collapse." He told her about the trip wires and grenades. Elizabeth's frown deepened as she realized just how dire the situation had been.

"And right now we are currently in a hotel suite in downtown Baltimore."

"What?" Elizabeth gaped. "Red, why didn't you take me to a hospital?" Her surprise was diminishing as anger blossomed within her.

"How typical," Red replied, a faintly detectable tinge of hurt in his voice. "I save your life and you repay me by being ungrateful."

"Red."

"I am perfectly capable of tending to you without the need for tedious paperwork and long hours sitting in a waiting room."

"Red!" Elizabeth near shouted, but ended up regretting it as she began coughing.

Red got up from his chair and went into the kitchenette. He opened one of the cabinets and retrieved a small glass, then filled it with water from the sink. When he returned, he stood in front of Elizabeth.

"Here," he said. Red gently took one of her hands, and guided it to the glass of water held within his own. She grasped it and took it from him, raising it to her lips. She took a sip, another, then another. Then she simply held it, balancing the bottom of the glass on her leg.

"Better?" Red asked.

Elizabeth merely nodded. The cold water soothed her throat, but it would be brief, she knew.

"Lizzy, when was the last time you ate something?" Red decided he'd let the previous subject go until she, herself, brought it up with him.

"Uhm..breakfast this morning."

"Are you hungry now? It's about 6:27 pm. Room service is available until 9:00 pm."

Elizabeth thought about it. She was very hungry. "I just want a really big sandwich. If there's any menu of sorts, just pick the first thing you see."

Red grinned. "Of course." A complimentary menu had been placed on the counter in the kitchenette. "A moment, please, Lizzy. Your sandwich will be up in a jiffy." He left her to peruse the menu, then used the phone to dial room service. As he ordered a sandwich for Lizzy, he glanced at the bags on the counter that Dembe had left when he returned from his little errand. It had been a rough start, but with these items, he could actually begin to do some good.

* * *

**A/N: **The items Red asked Dembe to procure, namely the green tea bags, cucumbers, honey, and aloe vera juice, are things used in home remedies for soothing eyes. Tea contains bioflavonoids that fight viral and bacterial infections and can help reduce inflammation. If your eyes are swollen, moisten the teabags with cool water. The tannic acid in the tea will soothe the itching. Cucumber slices help soothe eye irriation and inflammation. Aloe vera juice, when frozen and mixed with water, accomplishes the same thing. And honey has amazing anti-bacterial properties. If you mix it into a warm cup of tea, it helps soothe a sore throat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I have to be honest when I say I've been lacking with this story. It isn't procrastination at all, but I haven't tried hard enough to keep up with constant updates. This chapter has given me a lot of trouble. I've approached it several different ways, but I finally sat down and forced myself to write it. It was kind of an emotional chapter for me, partly because I was listening to Understanding, by Evanescence, while I was writing and because it brought up a few unpleasant memories of my own terrible experiences. If any of you have lost a friend by their committing suicide, then you would know how much it hurts. I promise chapter seven will be more interesting.

* * *

The rest of the evening passed without incident. After Elizabeth had eaten, Red had led her around the suite, allowing her to feel where the walls and furniture were, to get a general idea of the layout. Elizabeth, Red knew, was an independent woman. She would not want to be confined to one spot, or left completely helpless, for too long. However, it would take a while, and many stumbles and bumps, before she could navigate without Red's fear of her hurting herself. For the time being, this whole arrangement was part cooperative coexistence and part quiet rehabilitation.

Far after her anger died away, a curiosity remained in its place. So after going around the suite a few times, Elizabeth found herself safely returned to the sofa, and Red sitting next to her. He was gentlemanly enough to sit at a respectable distance. She angled her body towards him, breaking the silence.

"Thank you," Elizabeth murmured. "I didn't say it before, but I am grateful. I was confused and angry because I didn't understand, but I'd like to. Would you tell me why I'm here? Please?"

Red gazed at her, happy she couldn't read his expression, for he regarded her very solemnly, with a melancholic gleam glossing his eyes. It was in the way Elizabeth tilted her head towards him, her burn scars catching lines of light and shadow, the way she was dependent on him now, and willing to trust him despite the fact that she was oblivious to his reasons, made him want to tell the truth for once instead of withholding it, or at least half-truths. _Baby steps._ He reached to place a hand on her knee, then unsure, hesitant and hovering, he placed it on his own lap.

"Elizabeth.." Red began with a sigh, and she shivered to hear him pronounce her full name, "People die in hospitals."

And suddenly, a vision passed before his eyes. He was no longer in a hotel suite with Elizabeth, but in a hospital in a room far away, bending over Sam, her adoptive father, pressing a pillow over him and waiting for him to slowly suffocate and die..

He still retained a fair amount of guilt and grief - it had not pleased him to kill Sam. He only did what he thought was in Sam's best interest by cutting short his misery and pain. Red breathed in slowly and continued.

"As much as people go there for healing, it is also a place people go to die. I don't like it. The buildings are too clean, the walls too white - too perfect. Too many broken people, if not physically, then emotionally. Too many hapless well-wishers crowding the waiting rooms, friends and family, holding back their tears, their anxiety. Too many concerned and sympathetic glances from people you will probably never meet again. The atmosphere is too depressing, Lizzy. To see you in a bed in a hospital room is the proof of my inability to protect and care for you, and I don't handle failure too well. Here, I can keep an eye on you without the restrictions of visiting hours. You could use the company, too, I think, but I digress. You are safer here.."

"With you," Elizabeth completed softy.

"Yes," Red replied, "And Dembe. I know all of this seems unorthodox and strange, but I hope you'll believe me when I say that most things I do are for your well-being, Lizzy."

Being handicapped, Elizabeth couldn't see just how unguarded his expression was, but she didn't need to see. His voice gave him away, his tone betraying him. Elizabeth felt a surge of some unplaceable emotion rise within her. She understood now the level of his committment, that he would go to such lengths to prove it to her. _But why?_ Red was a complicated man to understand, and he didn't exactly make his reasons known.

He'd never once told her why she was so special, or why he felt the need to place upon his shoulders the burden of becoming her own personal guardian. However, in many subtle and not so subtle ways, he'd made it clear that she_ was important to him_, never mind why. In some way, she was, and he honestly _cared._ Elizabeth realized that she needed him to care, wanted him to care, because he was the centerpoint in her stressful life in which she could lean comfortably on when things got too crazy - Red helped keep her sane through it all. He was the island in the ocean, the eye of the hurricane.

And yet she still couldn't bring herself to believe him about Tom._ Is it because he's my husband that I refuse to believe he could be capable of doing bad things? Or is it because of our failing marriage that I want to believe Red and that admitting it scares me because I no longer know how to feel about either of them? I do love Tom, but the road ahead is no longer clear for us. We are unsure of each other, and our relationship feels broken._

"Red.." Elizabeth whispered, feeling a wetness building in the corners of her eyes. Hearing him talk had made her think, and her thoughts made her realize how truly unhappy, confused, and conflicted she was. She leaned towards him and was relieved when he gently folded her to his chest, mindful of her wounds as his arms braced her in a comforting hug. He rubbed her back and stroked her hair as she quietly sobbed into his shirt, and when she had calmed down, they remained that way for a few minutes before Elizabeth spoke again.

"I wish I could see your face."

Red frowned. He wished to see her eyes just as much as she wanted to see his face. Elizabeth had beautiful eyes, exquisitely expressive and alert. He lifted her face up with a tenderness that made her lean into his touch, his fingers feather-soft against her skin.

"Lizzy, you are a strong, determined, and ambitious woman. Though I do need you to concentrate on recovering, right now it's important that you rest."

Elizabeth nodded once. "I felt the bags on the counter in the kitchenette."

"Ah, yes. I had Dembe bring me a few things to help ease your pain until I am able to procure the proper instruments needed for your care," said Red.

"Though I can't say I agree to this approach a hundred percent, Red, I'll try to comply," Elizabeth replied, sounding, for a moment, like her old self. "I mean, you pretty much kidnapped me."

Red laughed softly. "Kidnap you? Oh, Lizzy, you wound me. I only have the best of intentions in mind."

Elizabeth smiled a little, and the sight made Red's heart sing a chorus of strong, steady _thumps_. He hated seeing her so morose.

"I know," she amended, and yawned.

Red glanced at his watch. It wasn't terribly late yet, but he ought to insist on her getting to bed at a decent time, so her body could rest and promote healing. He stood up.

"I think you ought to turn in for the evening, Lizzy. Is there anything you need?"

She turned her head in his direction, or where she thought he was. "I, uhm..kinda...I have to pee," Elizabeth stammered, rushing over her words in her obvious embarrassment.

"I'll show you to the bathroom," Red replied. He took Elizabeth's hand as she stood up, watched her bite her lip as the sudden movement caused a brief spark of pain. They walked together in silence until they reached the bathroom. Red flipped the light on and led her inside. He explained, in great detail, where things were placed in the room, then had her run her hands over the walls, the sink, the shower, the toilet, the roll of toilet paper, the hand towels, so she could find them again by touch. Then he left, shutting the door behind him, to give her privacy. He went into the kitchenette to make tea.

Elizabeth did not call for help when she was finished. She felt for the door, opened it, felt for the switch and turned the light off, then stepped out. She crept along the wall in the short hallway, committing every detail to memory as she moved towards the sound of boiling water. _He's making something?_

Red heard her come in. "I was just putting on some tea," he explained. "Would you care for a cup before you head off to sleep?"

"Sure," she replied. Her voice was close behind him somewhere - he hadn't bothered to turn around to see where she was. Red turned the stove off. He was glad this hotel offered suites with fully functional kitchens. It was awfully convenient. He moved the saucepan off the stove, away from the heat, to allow the teabags to steep for a few minutes. While he waited, Red opened the cabinet and grabbed two cups. He set them on the counter and finally turned around.

Elizabeth was hovering in the hallway, leaning on the wall. She was facing him, honing in on the sounds and smells. She was quiet, but observant through the senses she would have to rely on until her sight returned.

"Red?" she asked. "Where are you sleeping?"

Surprised by the random question, he replied, "The sofa, of course. The bedroom down the hall is all your's."

_Of course._ Still, the gesture was appreciated. Satisfied with his answer, Elizabeth grew quiet again, listening to him bustle about the kitchenette. She was lost in her thoughts until something warm was placed in her hands.

"Your tea," Red offered. He was close. His fingers briefly brushed her's as she took the cup from him. Elizabeth raised it to her lips, blew the steam away, took a sip. It was normal tea, but was that honey she detected there as well? The rich flavor soothed as it went down, but she didn't drink hastily - the tea was still somewhat hot. Best to down it in smaller sips.

"It's good," Elizabeth told him between sips.

"The honey will help soothe your throat," Red said. "Tomorrow, we'll start you on some anti-inflammatory drugs. How is your breathing?"

"Fine at the moment. It's not as hard to breathe now as it was a few hours ago. Still kind of scratchy, though, at times. Occasionally it hurts."

_Hmmm. We'll have to rectify that._

They finished their tea in companionable silence. Elizabeth handed Red her cup, and he took it, washed both, dried his hands, and turned to her again. They traversed the hallway to the bedroom, Red flipping the light on, Elizabeth feeling her way to the bed. She pulled the sheets back, climbed in, and pulled them over her. It felt strange to sleep alone, having been used to sharing a bed with her husband.

"All settled in?" Red asked from across the room where he stood by the door.

"Yes," Elizabeth yawned. "I'm good, I think."

_Good. If you need anything, anything at all, just call for me. Goodnight, Lizzy._

_ Goodnight, Red._

He turned the light off, closed the door, and went into the main room to flop onto the sofa and follow Elizabeth into sleep, thoughts swirling in his head. _I will have to get her some new clothes in the morning._


End file.
